FIND YOUR INNER JEDI WHEN DEALING WITH ROTISSERIE BASEBALL

It falls somewhere between my doctor telling me I have to eat 10 salads a week and realizing I have three years left as a member of the key 18-to-35 demographic.

Milestone timeline: Age 16 (license), Age 18 (voting), Age 21 (imbibe), Age 25 (cheaper insurance), Age 30 (warranty on body expires), Age 36 (the advertising world stops caring what you think). That’s life in a nutshell.

Next stop: Medicare. Assuming President Tim Tebow and his Vice President/Unicorn Tintin is able to save it in the year 2036.

Like salads and my issues with getting older, I have to deal with fantasy baseball. I help run an extremely progressive league (we have our own website and use PayPal to handle league fees). Its members are the greatest friends/competitors a guy could have. And on the rare day the Fantasy Gods shine down upon me and bless me with glory, all the adversity, all the injuries, all the bad moves, the double guessing, the constant tinkering, the six-month roller coaster … is worth it.

That’s my attitude on the grind that is Rotisserie Baseball, and I won last season.

How do I cope? I sought guidance from a fellow Modestan.

On most days, I don’t even like George Lucas.

I refuse to acknowledge Jar Jar Binks. Many fans of Star Wars are not fans of its creator. That’s why when Disney purchased Lucasfilm last October, there were uproarious celebrations all over the planet, as if we could all see the Death Star falling from the sky.

Still, I have to reconcile the fact he created my beloved galaxy far, far away. No Lucas means no Industrial Light and Magic. No ILM, means no Pixar. No Pixar? Who knows how that affects Steve Jobs second go at Apple? Does Jobs even get a second chance at Apple? What then? Did I just blow your mind?

If Lucas can set all of this in motion, he can certainly help me with the psychology of one of my favorite pastimes. I present to you, the Jedi Code (as it pertains to fantasy baseball):

There is no emotion, there is peace.

Like most managers, I’m positive dealing with faulty closers will take a decade off our lives. I find solace where I can though. Trust me, I want to season my league’s chatboard with salty language all the time. If I did, however, I’d probably need 20 salads a week.

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.

Fanalytics and sabermetrics rule the galaxy. If you have to google fanalytics and sabermetrics, you’re already behind. Does this mean you need to abide by the laws of BABIP, xERA and VORP to be successful? Not necessarily. It means you can’t peruse a magazine a half-hour before your draft and expect to dominate anymore. You have to read blogs, follow players on social media and study experts like Bill James and Ron Shandler.

There is no passion, there is serenity.

Passionate use of power leads to the dark side. Always act with an even temper. This mostly applies to trades and weekly moves. How many times have you made a move based solely on anger only to see it blow up in your face?

There is no chaos, there is harmony.

Inconveniences such as failure, disappointment and disagreement are inevitable. Take them in stride. You’re not going to win all the time. Every decision is not going to go your way. Since most baseball leagues are a daily activity, even the winner will have a share of bad days. Do your best to search for the positives, like the 18th-round flier who panned out. Hold on to the 20-for-50 day longer than the 3-for-45 one.

There is no death, there is the Force.

We win. We get our name on the trophy and a little coin in our pocket. We finish last. It stings, but it isn’t the end of the world. The standings change from season to season, but what remains are lasting friendships and unforgettable memories of destination drafts. My draft takes place in Arizona this weekend during Spring Training. Hopefully, the Force will be strong with this one (I now owe Disney a trillion dollars).